That got everyone’s attention.
Ferrula cursed under her breath, and I felt my stomach knot.
Dorian continued, “I don’t know who’s pulling the strings, not yet. But the kingdoms are starting to fracture. Alliances are forming in places we once trusted. Some with the Crimson Sigil. Others with the Varnari.”
His voice dropped further, a grim finality in his words.
“All of them end with the crown in Warriathfalling.”
Zander’s jaw clenched. “Then why would the Crimson Sigil attackhere?This wasn’t a political stronghold. It was a supply outpost.”
Dorian shook his head, arms crossed as he glanced around at the scorched buildings, the funeral procession still lingering like a shadow behind us.
“I don’t think it’sjusthere. That’s what I’m investigating,” he said. “The Sigil and the Varnari aren’t fighting over people. They’re fighting overroutes. Over control.”
He turned his gaze to Zander, focused and direct.
“These outposts make perfect waystations for an army.”
The words hung there like a blade in the air.
“You think they want open war with the crown?” Zander asked, brows drawn tight.
Dorian hesitated. Then shrugged—slowly, heavily. “I don’t know. Itdoesn’tmake sense. Any war would leave us exposed.”
“To the Blood Fae,” I finished for him.
Dorian nodded. “Exactly. And none of us will survive what’s coming if the Sigil or the Varnari weaken us first.”
Silence settled over our group again, heavier than the smoke in the air.
Because we all knew—something was moving beneath the surface.
And it wasn’t going to stay in the shadows for long.
The shrill shout split the tension like a blade.
“There!”
Men burst from one of the blackened buildings, their armor scorched but intact, each chest emblazoned with a sigil I now hated more than death itself—a red sickle against a stark white field.
The Crimson Sigil.
“GET DOWN!” Dorian shouted, already drawing his sword as arrows hissed through the air.
Chaos ignited.
We dove for cover, scattering across the smoldering courtyard as arrows rained down. The villagers screamed, ducking into broken buildings and behind overturned wagons. It was impossible to tell who was where—the crowd was a blur of ash-streaked faces and screaming children.
And then?—
Dark Fire.
It surged around us in streaks of searing black flame, curling and slashing through the smoke like serpents. The clouds above rumbled low and threatening, and I felt the storm inside me stir, my magic crackling beneath my skin like lightning begging to be unleashed.
Cordelle!I screamed in my mind. I turned just in time to see him cry out, staggering backward as an arrow embedded high in his shoulder. He dropped behind the broken husk of astone planter, hand clutched to the wound, blood spilling bright against his pale skin.
People were running everywhere—screaming, colliding, trampling each other in blind panic. It was almostimpossibleto aim with so many innocents caught in the chaos.
